Page 83 of Under the Radar

“I still don’t like it.”

“It’s what I do,” I reminded him gently.

“I know. But I’ll worry.”

I turned and ran my finger over the crease in his forehead. “I’ll be fine.” I paused. “I have something to tell you.”

He frowned and grabbed my hand. “What is it? Are you okay?”

I told him about Martha. The possibility of being the office manager for the building.

“Are you interested?” he asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Is it normal to have a manager in a police station?”

“We’re run a little differently here. They have everything together in one place, under the same umbrella, so to speak. Some small towns only have a station, very few officers. We service a larger area, so we have more staff and items to manage. Martha is a civilian, so I wouldn’t be a cop anymore.”

His shoulders dropped. “So that’s a no.”

“I didn’t say that. I haven’t decided yet. I don’t even know if Martha has made up her mind. I would have to get all the particulars once she does and talk to my boss.” I studied his face. “You want me to take it, don’t you?”

“I want you to be happy.”

“Chase, be honest.”

“Yes, if you took a clerical job where you’d be safer and came home every night, I would like that. But if it makes you miserable and unfulfilled, then no. I think you’d be great at it, given your business degree, and I agree with your boss. You might bring something extra to the job. Maybe you could work with the cops on how to improve the way it is run.” He shrugged. “Or I can just shut up and know you’d be happiest as a cop and accept it.”

I leaned close and kissed him. “Thank you. The way you worry is rather sweet.”

“I do worry. I’ll always worry. No matter how safe the area is, there is always a risk. But I won’t be the guy who asks you to stop being who you are. I love you too much for that, Hannah.”

I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him in gratitude. His support and love meant everything to me. I knew he worried. So did my mom. But he was right; I had to do what was best for me.

“I’ll think about it once Martha decides, and we’ll talk again.”

He held me close. “Okay, Cinnamon. Okay.”

* * *

CHASE

Hannah swayed to the music, lifting her arms in the air. I linked my hands around her waist, pulling her close and swaying with her. It had been the perfect day. After I closed the garage, we jumped in the truck and headed to the music festival. It was packed, and we had to park on the edge of a farmer’s field with some other latecomers. I had a feeling when we got back later that night, it would be even fuller with the people who only came for the evening concert. We strolled to the festival and spent the afternoon listening to the free music, visiting the stalls and buying some local crafts, and eating our weight in food. Sticky ribs from the barbecue place, handmade chips from another stall. A spicy turkey leg from a Middle Eastern vendor who assured me it wasn’t “too” spicy. It took two lemonades and a cold beer to put out the fire. Hannah laughed her ass off at me. We ate mini donuts and an apple dumpling doused in caramel sauce. We trekked back to the truck twice to toss the bags with the purchases from the stalls into the rear seat. As I thought, the field was fuller now, the cars and trucks parked everywhere. I looked again for someone to pay but never saw anyone. The truck was under a tree, and I put down the tailgate and Hannah and I sat in the shade, sipping on lemonade and eating the last of the donuts. Hannah licked her fingers and groaned.

“No more food.”

I laughed. “Okay, Cinnamon. But you were eyeing the brisket and pulled pork sliders earlier.”

“Maybe after the concert.”

I kissed her head. “Whatever you want.”

“Those pictures will look so good in the hall,” she said enthusiastically. “And the place mats so good on the table.”

“Yep.”

She sighed, leaning her head on my shoulder. “Such a great day, Chase. It’s been so much fun.”